


Beneath the Table

by Doodledust (PackGuardian)



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PackGuardian/pseuds/Doodledust
Summary: Sam has had a rough day and decides to deal with it by lying face down under a table. Sybil responds by being his wife.  Contains a few comical references to suffocation via carpet.
Relationships: Sybil Ramkin/Samuel Vimes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Beneath the Table

He had come home a quarter of an hour ago. She had heard him. She just hadn’t seen him. She had heard him go upstairs and then come back down again, and then she thought he had gone into the dining room, but she hadn’t seen him to be sure. Being turned invisible wasn’t outside of the question, but he probably would have told her about that, so it was for the best that she went to check on him.

“Darling, where are you?” Sybil asked as she entered the dining room.  
“B’neath the table,” Sam said, muffled.

She stepped back into the doorway a little and looked. He was in fact lying face down underneath the dining table, using his arms to elevate himself just enough that he wouldn’t suffocate on carpet fibres.

“Why are you underneath the table, dear?”  
“Had a long day,” he muttered into his forearms.

Sybil walked over to the table and sat down on the floor in front of him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Not particularly.” Minor adjustments in positioning were made and Sam’s chin was pressed down into the carpet.

Ah, one of those days.

“Well dear, how about I make us both a nice cup of tea, and you can come out from beneath the table, and we can do a puzzle or read a book or do something else to take your mind off it,” she said gently.  
“Not coming out. Don’t want t’ take m’ mind off it.”

Oh. One of _those_ days. Well at least he’d taken his uniform off and was lying under the table in a stained shirt and his worst trousers. Gods only knew where she would _find_ his uniform, but right now that wasn’t even in the vicinity of the point.

“Very well,” she said, formulating a negotiation. “What if I make you a cup of tea, and you come out from beneath the table when you are ready to?”  
“Sounds acceptable,” he muttered, mouth slowly slipping to join chin in the carpet.

Sybil restrained a sigh and reached under the table to stroke his hair. He turned his head, putting his chin on his wrist and converting a risk of suffocation into a lesser risk of having a bad shoulder when he finally decided to come out from under there. Her hand came away with a fine ashy substance. Sam was covered in it, which might have meant it had been one of those ‘those days’ (1) but could equally be the simple consequence of lying on his front under the dining table in a house that very often has dragons in it.

  
“Very well dear,” she said, wiping her hand on her skirt.

She would make him tea, and she would make sure he didn’t fall asleep under there - but she wouldn’t be too upset to have to pull him out and carry him to bed if he did. He had after all, had a long day.  
In the best case, Sam would come out from beneath the table when stewing in his thoughts had given him a headache and he realised he was hungry. Then she would put down her needlework, offer him more tea and a nice relaxing bath, and see that he had enough for supper.

Sybil smiled fondly at her husband, who for the moment had stopped trying to merge with the carpet, and rose gracefully to her feet to make tea. As she stood, weary fingers found her slipper and gently held onto her foot. Strong tea, she considered.

“Love you Syb’,” he mumbled.  
“I love you too dear,” she replied. “Now if you want tea you will have to give me my slipper back.”

* * *

(1): Which usually involved something exploding and having to be swiftly dealt with while a dwarf woman apologised too much.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I have not written Discworld fic before, but being a sizeable fan by osmosis and in the middle of the 'Guards! Guards!' audiobook (and having gone on a bit of a fanfic binge, ngl) I thought I'd try my hand. As always, my first ficlet involves a character I like Doing A Thing I Would Do, but everyone needs to lie down on the floor sometimes right?  
> Comments are appreciated! <3
> 
> (P.S. - I might work out the HTML for footnotes one day, but that scares me.)


End file.
